


Make Me Feel (It's Real)

by MoMoMomma



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, M/M, Missing Scene, Quiet Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 12:53:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10594413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/pseuds/MoMoMomma
Summary: On the list of things Scott shouldn't do, let his smuggler not-boyfriend bring him off in a storage room with the door wide open is pretty close to the top.Good thing he's never been fond of that list anyhow.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This entire thing is because of [ THIS ](http://pickart-master.tumblr.com/post/159423992819/and-where-is-my-damn-storage-room-bioware-meh) amazing art by L. Also because of my frustration at Bioware for not letting me have any sort of sex scene with Reyes.

“I think we’re in the clear.” Reyes sounds muffled, though that’s likely because of the blood rushing in Scott’s ears.

Because _that_? He doesn’t _do_ stuff like that. He doesn’t pin shady smuggler’s up against walls in storage rooms, doesn’t then proceed to kiss the life out of them with everything he’s got. And he certainly doesn’t yank them closer, grind in and whimpering into their mouths as someone obviously catches them and thankfully walks away.

But he really wants to do it again.

“Maybe another kiss?” He suggest, kidding but also _not_. “Just to be sure.”

Reyes chuckles and _fuck_ it sounds good, sounds like something Scott wants to hear every day. 

“Now you’re just teasing me.”

“I’m really not.” Scott feels compelled to point out, adrenaline drunk and reckless in the shadows of a hidden space.

He’ll be embarrassed about his candor later. Embarrassed at how _needy_ his voice sounds, at the way his hand rises to clutch at the fabric over Reyes’ ribs. 

For now though, Reyes eyes sharpen, darken, and his tongue flickers out to wet his lips. 

“Is that so.” 

It’s not a question and Scott couldn’t answer even if it was. His voice is stuck in his throat, wedged there when Reyes yanks him in close with a hand on his nape. His fingers bite, nearly bruising, and the pressure makes Scott go weak in the knees.

“I suppose I have been...an unkind date. Neglecting you so was not my intention. And if I am afforded a way to make it up to you…”

“Please,” Scott manages, eyes squeezed shut as a flush crawls across his cheeks, held upright solely by Reyes’ grip. “I-- _please_.”

“You will have to be quiet.” Reyes orders and Scott’s cock _throbs_ between his thighs at the darkness in his voice. “We are not likely to be interrupted...but it is not a chance I wish to take.”

Scott nods, unable to do anything else, and allows himself to be maneuvered as Reyes guides him a few feet to the left. He winds up facing the still open door, Reyes pressed up close behind him, acutely aware of every brush of their bodies. They’re outside the sight of the doorway now, but not close enough to any of the storage containers that Scott can brace himself. He settles for leaning back into Reyes’ body, shuddering when his hand slips around to gently rest against Scott’s throat. He’s not pressing, there’s no threat to it, but it’s still intimate, still commanding him. 

Reyes’ free hand slips around the front, palm grinding against where Scott’s cock is tenting his uniform pants, dragging a gasp from him. He bucks forwards and is rewarded with Reyes’ fingers curling around the bulge, a hum in his ear. 

“So desperate for it. I am lucky, in this case, as we do not have time to linger. On another occasion, I would have you beg for it until you were mindless.”

“I’m mindless _now_ ,” Scott snaps, keeping his eyes open by sheer force of will, aware that he’s the person someone will see first if they walk in. “Reyes, I’m begging you--”

“Oh, but you aren’t.” Reyes whispers, punctuating it with a kiss against his throat as his hand drifts upwards, slowly pushing Scott’s shirt, exposing his stomach. “Not yet. Not in the way I want. I cannot have it now, of course, but I _will_ have that eventually. I will have every bit of your pleasure, every last plea you can muster.”

Scott lets his head fall back against Reyes’ shoulder as a thumb brushes against his nipple. They’ve never been particularly sensitive but Reyes is changing those rules too, it seems.

He’s changing _everything_.

Another kiss presses to his throat, fingers drawing nonsense shapes on the dip of his collarbones, as Reyes tweaks his nipple. It makes Scott moan, makes him grab for Reyes’ wrist as he does it again, and shake his head.

“I can’t--please, don’t tease.”

“ _You_ teased me,” Reyes points out lowly, but complies, hand drifting back down, leaving Scott’s shirt rucked around his armpits. “But I suppose you’re correct. We hardly have the time for it. We already tempt fate.”

Scott wasn’t actually aware pants could be undone with one hand but Reyes manages, hand slipping inside the fabric the second his zipper is down. The feel of his fingers closing around Scott’s cock, leather dragging and scraping the sensitive skin in the best way, makes Scott groan. It’s loud in the space, too loud despite the pounding bassline still emanating from the party, and Reyes’ hand claps across his mouth to silence him.

“If I had something, I’d gag you.” He warns Scott, who only whines in response, eyes rolling back into his head as he bucks into the firm grip on his cock. “We might have used your briefs, had you bothered to _wear_ any. What were you hoping for here, Ryder?”

“Anything,” Scott says, the word muffled against Reyes’ palm, but clearly heard if Reyes’ harsh exhale against his ear is any indication. 

“Needy. Daring. You make me reckless, Scott Ryder.” He swears, stroking Scott as best he can in the confined space, wonderful and perfect and not nearly _enough_.

Scott lets go of his wrist, drops his other hand to grip his waistband, shoving his pants lower. The catch around the tops of his thighs and it’s as low as he’s willing to push them, intimately aware of how easy it would be to get caught. It makes his heart pound, adrenaline spiking at every small sound, and it’s only the press of Reyes’ body behind him that keeps him from panicking. 

He shouldn’t feel safe in the arms of a smuggler. 

But logic rarely takes precedence in these sort of situations.

“You’re so desperate for it,” Reyes marvels, his strokes longer now, though no less quick. “For my touch. Even here you press back, grinding against my cock. Will you be as giving when I have you on your back in private? When I sink inside, drive you mad with all the time in the world at my disposal?”

Scott nods, whines against the palm still pressed to his mouth, back arching, one hand clinging to Reyes’ wrist once more. He _needs_ the contact, needs to hold onto something because he feels like he’s going to tip off the edge of the world. Reyes’ hand is driving him mad, thumb rubbing circles around the leaking tip, and it’s going to over so embarrassingly quick if he keeps _talking_.

His eyes drift closed when Reyes moves his hand up, strokes just over the head, the slickness of his pre-come making the leather wet, easing the drag. He’s moaning almost constantly now, unable to stop, tongue pressed to Reyes’ palm as he tries to drag in breaths. There’s no point in trying to fight it, pleasure making his body shake and shudder, entire existence narrowed down to _Reyes_.

Reyes’ body bracing him upright, keeping him on his feet.

Reyes’ hand on his cock.

Reyes’ breath against his ear.

Reyes’ cock, thick and hard, rocking against his ass like he’s barely holding back from bending Scott over one of the containers.

It’s that thought that makes Scott groan out his name, come spurting over his fingers, letting the fire consume him. The thought of Reyes snapping, losing some of his cool, his control, and fucking Scott in some dingy backroom. He _wants_ it, wants it like he wants his next breath, and it drags out his orgasm.

Or maybe that’s the way Reyes is panting praise in his ear, calling him a “good boy” and a “precious thing” as he coaxes every last drop free with slow pumps of his hand. 

Scott finally pushes his hand away, oversensitive and weak, sagging backwards into his body. Reyes waits a moment before he uncovers his mouth, nuzzling the curve of his ear as Scott comes down from the high in a lazy spiral towards solid ground. The reality crashes like a fall and he looks down, at the mess he’s left on the floor, at the sight of his still hard cock jutting obscenely from his hips, at the way his shirt is still exposing his body.

He feels...naughty. Almost slutty. 

And completely and utterly adored as Reyes traces gentle fingers across his cheek, turning him into an awkward but sweet kiss.

“Stay here.” Reyes commands and Scott complies, fixing his clothes with shaking fingers as Reyes rummages around behind him.

There’s a noise of satisfaction, an accomplished “aha!” that makes Scott turn, and he frowns at the sight. Reyes has a bottle in his hands, looking disheveled and content as he wags it in Scott’s direction. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight--Reyes is clearly hard beneath his pants, cock a thick line against his zipper, and there’s still sweat beaded on his forehead--before he speaks.

“ _That’s_ what all this was about? Whiskey?”

“Not just whiskey,” Reyes clicks his tongue at him, cradling the bottle in his arms. “The only bottle of Mount Milgrom in Andromeda. Triple distilled and 645 years old. This isn’t whiskey--this is _treasure_.”

“A treasure I hope you intend to share.” Scott arches a brow, falling back to familiar banter even as Reyes winks and something in his stomach clenches.

“We’ll see,” Reyes chuckles, reaching out to grab his hand. “For now, let’s get out of here. Find ourselves some of that privacy I mentioned earlier.”

Scott takes a split second to worry about the mess, about how Sloane isn’t really going to be able to ignore a puddle of come in her storage room, before he pushes all the thoughts from his mind. It’s his night off. It’s his time to be irresponsible and impulsive.

Plus, privacy with Reyes? Sounds like a hell of a lot more fun than the party could ever hope to be.

They tear off, laughing quietly, like misbehaving kids, hands still linked together. For just a moment, Scott forgets about the mission. Forgets about his title and his job and every expectation that usually weighs down like lead in his chest.

Tonight, he’s not the Pathfinder. 

Tonight, he doesn’t belong to the people, to the Initiative, to any orders that might exist.

Tonight, he belongs to Reyes.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed it, come scream with me! I'm momomomma2 over on tumblr!


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